<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Consequences of Drunk Dialing by onemechanicalalligator</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122458">Consequences of Drunk Dialing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator'>onemechanicalalligator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Community (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunk Dialing, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex kind of?, Voicemail</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:28:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Troy accidentally leaves Abed a drunken voicemail. Sexy things happen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Consequences of Drunk Dialing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote most of this months and months ago, and wasn't going to post it because I was embarrassed, and then I just sort of forgot about it. But, uh, then I remembered, so here it is. I made some changes and added a little, so if you've read it before, no you haven't &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Abed wakes up at 4AM to get a glass of water. When he comes back to bed, he notices his phone is blinking. He has a missed call and a voicemail from Troy. He gets a little worried, because Troy rarely calls him, and especially not in the middle of the night. He hits play and puts the phone to his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Heyyy Abed. It’s me. Troy. I thought you might be awake, buuuut probably not. That’s okay." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Troy's voice is an uncharacteristic low drawl. Abed can hear him smiling. He sounds relaxed. Happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I was just out drinking some 7&amp;7s, and then I came home and I started thinking about you. And stuff. I mean, I was thinking about you stuff. Boy stuff. You know what I mean? Boys? There are just. Some boys who are extra pretty. You’re one of them…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abed has never heard Troy drunk like this before. Suddenly he is fully awake, eyes wide. His breath speeds up a little as he continues to listen, to hear Troy -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Troy!-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>talk about extra pretty boys. To hear Troy say that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Abed</span>
  </em>
  <span> is one of them. He can feel himself beginning to grow hard, and he blushes, even though he’s all alone in his dorm room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just, like, your eyes? Are so brown and soft and nice? Boys have nice eyes sometimes, don’t they, Abed? Boys are just. Nice sometimes. I pretend not to notice but, like, I do. All the time. Notice boys. I like them."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abed squirms a little, situating himself on his bed, getting comfortable. Wondering where this is headed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Not just their eyes, though. You know what I mean? I like their muscles. Ohh, and their hands. No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands. God, I love your hands, Abed. Your fingers. They’re so...long. And perfect.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abed doesn’t even notice his hand creeping toward the waistband of his pajama pants until he’s already fumbling with it, and he stops himself with just his fingers trapped beneath the elastic. This isn’t okay. He can’t do this while he listens to drunken Troy’s voicemail. It’s not right. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about what’s happening below his waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, god, and butts. I love...mmm. Have you ever done...butt stuff, Abed? With a guy? I bet...I bet you would be so good at it. I bet--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the voicemail, Troy stops talking abruptly and gasps, and it occurs to Abed just how labored Troy’s breathing has gotten. He presses the phone harder to his ear, trying to discern exactly what was happening on the other end. Troy still hasn’t started speaking again, but Abed thinks he can hear...is Troy </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimpering?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He puts that together with the ragged breaths and the way Troy's speech has become stilted, and he no longer has any qualms about what he’s about to do. He slides his hand the rest of the way down his pants and begins finally to touch himself, to stroke himself, to let himself feel good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Abed, Abed, listen, okay, I’m just...oh...I’m not normally like this, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and your fingers, and did I mention your...fingers, because I just. You can do a lot with them, you know, butt stuff and everything--”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Troy gasps again and makes a strangled sound. Abed makes a slightly strangled sound himself, laying on the bottom bunk with his legs spread wide, his phone plastered to his ear with sweat. He tries to picture Troy, wonders if he’s using his own fingers in the way he’s trying to describe. The thought makes Abed shiver and he thinks about going that direction himself, but he’s so close already, and judging from the way Troy sounds, the message can’t possibly last that much longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Abed, I...Abed. I need to tell you that-- Fuck. Oh, oh, fuck, oh, god, Abed, oh, fuck, oh, OH--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a crashing sound, clearly Troy dropping the phone, and then Abed’s phone beeps in his ear and the message is over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s overwhelmed by the heat pooling in his groin, the way it grows and pulses and coils out to every part of him, rushing through him in waves. He lets his phone fall out of his hand and bites down on his pillow in an attempt to muffle the ragged, desperate sounds that pour out of his throat as he comes hard and hot and messy all over his own stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He imagines Troy in a similar state.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't tell Troy about the voicemail, but he holds onto it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He emails it to himself for safekeeping. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Seven years later he finally plays it for Troy, the night before their wedding. He’s laying on their shared bed with the laptop, and Troy is standing close by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t really remember leaving that voicemail,” Troy admits to him. “But I do remember that night. I think… I think it was the first time I let myself come while I was thinking about you.” He grins shyly at Abed. "The first of many times, obviously."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool cool cool,” Abed mutters, his voice hoarse. He catches Troy's gaze, his own eyes dark and dilated. “Get in the bed," he adds, licking his lips. "Please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Troy’s there before he’s even finished speaking. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>